Magnetic Force
by SpecialAgentZiva
Summary: People often say that opposites attract. But is it possible for two people so opposite that they compliment and complicate each other? Updated with: Accuse You Of Murder and I Carry A Gun
1. No News Is Bad News

This is gonna be a short chapter. Actually, they'll all be short chapters but you get the point. This is basically your introduction. Enjoy!  
Summary: No news isn't good news at NCIS!  
Disclaimer: NCIS is not owned by me.

* * *

_Scientists often say that opposites attract, and that is true with magnets and such, but is it possible with people? Two people so close, so different that compliment each other so well but complicate each other's lives at the same time... Two people abiding by rules a mystery to them, afraid to make a move._

* * *

Ziva pounded her head into her hands. How she hated mornings like this - absolutely nothing to do, because Gibbs wasn't there and they didn't have a case yet. Often she wondered why she got to work so early, but she knew. Her training. Mossad training was something she'd never forget. (But she wasn't Mossad anymore. _Why was she holding on?_)

McGee glanced up from his desk with a small smile on his face. If anything, they were all happy she was back. Somalia. God, if only they knew what happened. (She'd only ever talked to Tony. _Why was she holding on?_)

The elevator dinged nastily and neither looked up for they already knew who was coming. Tony, late as always, with that overbearing smile on his face that suggested he'd had a good night, or something close. (She knew she'd never have a chance. _Why was she holding on?_)

"Gooood morning Vietnam!" Tony called out, his grin widening at the obvious annoyance of his co-workers.

"Vietnam? Tony, we are in DC!" Ziva protested.

"It's a movie. A classic, you can't tell me you haven't..." he trailed off. "McProbie! Wake up."

"Mmm? Tony, shut up." McGee sighed from where he sat. "Some of us actually get up early and get here on time. So some of us are tired."

Gibbs slowly descended the stairs from MTAC, watching the scene. They wouldn't be happy when they found out the news he had to give them today.

As he entered the squad room, all chat abruptly stopped. "Do we have a case, Boss?" came from all three of them, now awake.

"No, paperwork is all." Gibbs placed his cup of coffee on his desk and kept walking, his only intention to see Ducky.

"No news is definitely bad news," Ziva grumbled.

The senior field agent grinned. "It's no news is** good** news, Zeee-vah, but in this case you are most definitely right."


	2. Accuse You Of Murder

Not so short. c: Enjoy.

Summary: Vance comes with news, but it's not what they expected.

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS!

* * *

"Tony, don't you dare!" Ziva's eyes snapped up to meet her partners and he stopped in midthrow, a paper ball crunched in his hand. "I saw that."

He threw it anyway, with his normal boyish grin and watched as it sailed right over to her. She leaned slightly to the right, so slightly that he thought it just might hit but the ball barely skimmed her red sweater. "Not fair, my ninja."

Before he knew it, she was behind him. Tony's grin fell, but the corners of his mouth still tugged up because he knew she was behind him. "Yes, Zee-vah?"

Ziva took the other sheets of paper crumpled carefully in front of him and slowly ripped them in half, watching him in his agony. Finally, he reached for them but clumsily fell.

She grinned and dropped the rest of the paper on him. "Why are you on the floor, Tony?" she asked with mock innocence and strode back to her desk, throwing an amused (and what he thought was flirtatious) glance over her shoulder.

"Very funny, David," came another voice and they all turned at once to see Vance standing there, looking quite angry as usual. (Not that anybody liked the sight of him.) "I have important news for Gibbs - and you all. Where is he?"

"How should I know?" mingled with "Probably with Ducky" and "He passed by a few seconds ago" to create what sounded like "How should Ducky a few seconds?"

The three agents grinned at each other, almost completely forgetting Vance until he cleared his throat. "The FBI have invited us to an interagency dance on Friday. Dress code is formal - DiNozzo, that means you, too. I expect to see you all there. Inform Ducky, Abby and Gibbs please."

With that, he was gone. Tony burst out laughing. "FBI? What do they want with us?"

"Probably they want to accuse you of murder, again?" Ziva suggested lightly. "Which girlfriend wants revenge this time?"

McGee grinned and snorted, earning him a death glare from the older man.

"Preferably none, Ziva." He wasn't thinking about that right now anyway - seeing his partner in a dress, preferably a small one, would be worth going to see the FBI and whatever other agencies they'd invited.

Oh, this would be fun.


	3. I Carry A Gun

You're probably wondering why I chose an interagency dance right away. The answer is: because I can.

Summary; While Abby convinces Ziva to go dress shopping, McGee and Tony struggle through finding something that fits the dress code.  
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.

* * *

"Abby, do we really need to be doing this?" Ziva asked, staring at the rows and rows of different dresses that stood before her. "I have some at home for times like now."

"Of course we do, Ziva! It's tradition! We need something new." Abby grinned at her obviously unenthusiastic shopping partner, who just sighed in response. "Come on, it'll be fun."

She latched on the the Israeli's hand and dragged her friend into the store, still smiling. "Okay, so we're going with the FBI. And it's gotta follow the dress code. Hey, how's this look?"

From one of the many racks Abby pulled a simple black dress, lined with red. She held it up in front of her for Ziva to see. "It looks nice, perhaps you should try it on later."

"Come on, we gotta find something for you!" Abby squealed, grabbing her hand again and going even farther into the store. "Hmmm. You'd look nice in green, red, black and maybe a sort of golden brown. Can't be too short... How about this?"

Ziva nearly fell over laughing at the dress that hung from the forensic scientist's hand. It was a warm brown, very small and curvy at the top but poofed out to double its size at the bottom. There were little streamers falling from the straps. Tiny sequins manifested themselves on the hemline that met the bottom with the tiny top. It looked like something that belonged at a kid's party.

"Oh, so maybe not." Abby winked and put it back on the rack. "Fine, I'm gonna go try this on. You look for a few minutes."

She was gone in a flash, leaving her shopping partner alone in the almost empty store. Ziva watched the door to the changing rooms close and turned back to the racks in front of her, slowly filtering through the multitudes of possibilities in front of her. Too short... Too long... Ugly color... But wait...

Her face lit up at her newest find; she revelled in the soft velvet, the perfect length and the color that shined in any light. Oh yes, this would work.

"Ziva? Have you found anything?" Abby asked, opening the door to show off her dress. "How do I look?"

"You look amazing, Abby, I'm sure McGee will love it," she laughed at Abby's blush. "I've found something, yes."

* * *

"Tony, do you really have to get James Bond theme?" called McGee from somewhere behind him.

He turned around to face his companion with a grin and nodded his head towards the SIG still clipped to his belt. "Come on, Probie. I'm a federal agent. I carry a gun. I just have to go James Bond!"

"Fine, but don't take too long Tony. You're probably taking longer than the girls will to pick out their clothes. No wonder Gibbs refused to come with you," McGee grumbled his last words under his breath, carefully examining a shining black suit.

"McGee. You have GOT to see this!" Tony came running down the isle to the Probie and held out a suit that looked almost exactly like James Bond's. "We are SO getting this."

"Finally," McGee hissed.


	4. Ziva Knows

Summary: The team talks about what they're wearing to the interagency dance.

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.

-

Lamps flickered on the darkened walls of the squad room, also casting shadows on the four that stood in a circle in the middle.

"Come on, Zee-vah, what're you wearing tonight?" Tony asked, leaning a little bit too close to her face. She grinned and leaned even closer to whisper in his ear, "You'll have to find out."

"It's really nice, Tony, you'll love it." Abby commented from her spot beside McGee.

"Hey, not fair! Why can you know but I can't?" Tony protested at the same time that McGee said, "Wait, so Ziva knows what you're wearing and won't tell me?"

The girls laughed together. Leave it to their male co-workers to try and figure out exactly what they were wearing.

"Is it revealing?" Tony breathed in Ziva's ear.

"In your dreams, Tony!" She moved slightly over to the other side. "It's a formal dance. We have to follow the dress code."

"Dress code. Right," McGee grumbled, still trying to figure out what Abby would come in.

"You can wait a few hours," Abby decided. "It's only in like three hours. Oh, that reminds me. Ziva, come on, we've gotta get ready. Leave James Bond and McGee alone."

As they left, Tony just stared. "H-how did she know?"

His companion laughed, turning back to go to his own desk. "Come on, Tony. Of course you're James Bond."

The senior field agent huffed. "Fine. Maybe I'll go as something different next year."

"Like what? Gibbs?" McGee asked, looking up from his desk. "Come on, Tony. Aren't you curious as to what Abby's wearing?"

"Of course! But we all know it'll be black. What's Gibbs gonna wear?"

"Now that is a mystery."

-

"Abby, how do I look?" Ziva asked, finally exiting one of the two bathrooms in her friend's apartment. It had taken her a while to curl her hair to perfection.

"Stunning," Abby breathed, "Damn, Ziva, Tony's gonna love that."

She grinned and slowly descended the staircase to grab her friends arm. "You look amazing too. Let's go. Don't want to be late!"

"Who's excited now?" Abby asked with a grin.

"I am?" Ziva sounded confused.

"Really, you need to work on your english with Tony. It's a rhetorical question. Now let's go, Ziva!"


End file.
